#and got to be the hottest person at the grocery store

[ratbastarddotfuck]

More like my tiddies day of visibility amirite

[eatyoursparkout]

love to overdress for a work potluck

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy

Part 4: “Girl Problems”

You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.

With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.

“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.

As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.

Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?

The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.

You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.

Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.

John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?

With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.

>> ok so this is terrible

>> im so sorry

>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom

>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional

Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.

J >> How can I help?

>> i dont have any products on me

>> meant to stock the bathroom

>> sorry

J >> Stop apologizing

J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street

You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.

It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”

You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“

“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”

You snort. “Yeah…”

“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”

“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.

You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.

You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“

“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”

“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”

When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.

You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.

If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.

A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.

[probably-writing-x]

Hotter and Hotter

Summary: hi 👋🏼 I don’t know if you take any request now but I will still ask.. Can you write about the scene of the grocery when Conrad just lean on and take a sip (he was soo f hot ) and make it like more flirty and it can go like you want between Conrad x yn? thanks u ❣️

Warnings: Sexual references (Minors DNI)

Author’s Note: I’m not taking requests atm but this came through and I was inspired so maybe I am taking requests, we’ll never know xoxo

“This is the hottest it’s ever been I swear to God,” Conrad grumbles from the couch, hand resting on his chest.

“Well you try and fix the air con then, because it’s doing fucking nothing when we try,” Steven shrugs his shoulders, his head resting back against the seats of the couch from where he sat on the floor.

“You’re an engineer Steven, isn’t this like your job?” Belly points out, dragging her hair away from her face.

The air conditioning in the house had been out all morning and the temperature had been slowly rising with the sun. Now, it was stifling hot inside the house and just as bad outside too. And, clearly, the group were at their wit’s end.

“Okay, can we please stop talking about it? Like, can we talk about anything else?” You roll your eyes, your back against the couch where Conrad was laying, your head mere inches from his.

The two of you had been friends for years, ever since Belly and Steven had started coming to the summer house, you had too. The group of you were always inseparable whenever you were all in Cousins. But, before this summer, you and Conrad had realised your feelings for each other. He’d started calling you every night, texting you more and more often, and eventually the two of you spoke to each other more than anyone else. You’d both agreed, however, that is was not worth the drama for the rest of the group to know that anything was going on. You’d kept things completely private and, so far, it worked.

You’d turned up to the summer house this year terrified to see him again, and when you had done, it was like there was a weird tension that you’d never known before. There were sparks whenever he looked at you, electricity coursing through you whenever you briefly touched. You hadn’t even kissed the boy and yet all you could think about was doing so. It was driving you insane.

“Well, what else do you want to talk about, (y/l/n)?” He turns his head so that it is facing you but you keep your gaze averted away, worried he’ll make you blush.

“Anything,” You groan, “Like, seriously, it’s making it worse if all we talk about is how hot we are.”

He smirks, “You think you’re hot, (y/n)?”

You whip your head around to face him and roll your eyes, “Grow up, Con.”

His smirk remains, eyes trailing over your face as the conversation grows behind you. Jere and Belly were agreeing on getting into the pool and Steven was refusing to join them under the premise that he couldn’t find any swimming shorts in his suitcase.

“How about we head to the store?” Conrad suggests, pushing himself up to sit on the couch, “We can get some cold drinks, some ice cream, anything remotely cold.”

The group all sound into chorus of agreement and you nod too.

“Yeah, just get anything they’ve got,” You encourage, watching as he swings his legs over the side of the couch so that he’s sat next to you now, his knee bumping your shoulder.

“Oh, you’re coming with me,” He nudges you, “I need someone to help me push the cart.”

Conrad stretches out a hand to you and waits for you to take it.

“Right because that’s definitely a two person job,” You roll your eyes, taking the grip of his hand and pushing yourself up from the floor.

“Oh, absolutely it is,” Conrad shrugs his shoulders, walking out of the lounge towards the front door, grabbing his car keys on the way.

———

You sit in the passenger seat and he sets his hand behind your chair as he reverses, the air con in his car blasting enough for you to both cool down.

“Why didn’t we think of coming in your car earlier?” You question, glancing out of the window at the changing street beside you.

Conrad turns his head in your direction, “Because then they’d all want to come.”

You nod in agreement and fall silent, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“So, has anyone said anything about…”

“What? Me and you?” You finish the sentence for him, “Why? Do you think they know?”

Conrad smirks a little, “Jere told me that sometimes you talk in your sleep and he can hear you through his wall.”

You frown just slightly, cogs turning in the expectation of what he was about to say.

“Apparently he heard you call my name,” Conrad fully grins then, turning the car into another corner as he approaches the store.

You feel your face heat up more than the sun was capable of, your heart sinking a little, “I did… I mean he heard… what?”

Conrad chuckles gently and his hand moves from the wheel to squeeze your leg, “Oh come on, (y/l/n), I already knew you were obsessed with me.”

You clench your jaw and look away from him, the embarrassment seeping through you. He squeezes your bare leg again and keeps his hand there as he pulls into a space in the parking lot.

“Okay I’ll get a cart and I’ll meet you at the checkout,” You nod, taking a deep breath to relatively compose yourself as you get out of the car.

Conrad follows behind you, fighting back the smile on his face. He walks up behind you as you go to get a cart, his arms dropping to either side of your hands on the handle, thumbs brushing your pinky fingers.

“See, Ive just got so many questions,” He mumbles the words into your ear as his chin drops to your shoulder.

You feel a tingle go over your spine and quickly step out from underneath his arm, “And I won’t be answering them.”

Conrad persists, of course, pushing the cart into the store and following your every move.

You both take a silent sigh of relief at the feeling of the air con in the store, walking a little slower as if to revel in it for as long as possible.

“Okay, so what was this dream about?” Conrad asks, stopping the cart as you throw in a few items from the produce section.

You make brief eye contact with him in the coldest glare you can muster, “Con, I said we’re not talking about this.”

“I mean, it must’ve been pretty good for you to be calling my name,” He points out nonchalantly, throwing a few bags into the cart, “So, tell me what it was about?”

You spin on your heel and grip the end of the cart, squeezing down on the plastic as you look at him, “Conrad, I don’t remember, okay? Now can we please drop this because you’re being an asshole.”

He raises his hands as if in a gesture of surrender before placing them back on the cart and following you still in your slow steps around the aisles.

Conrad didn’t need to know to boost his ego, or to use it against you. He needed to know because the thought of you thinking of him like that made him feel like a kid with his first crush. He was infatuated, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

Things were awkward between the two of you now, and neither was willing to break the tension with any form of conversation.

You were embarrassed, of course you were. The chemistry between the pair of you had been sky high since you’d arrived back in Cousins - all of the awaited feelings of seeing each other again had come bubbling to the surface. And yet neither of you could do anything about it. So there it stayed - bubbling wildly on a surface that would not release. Of course you were thinking about him, how could you not be?

“Okay, you get the ice and pay for this, I’ll meet you at the car,” You nod, holding your shoulders a little more sure of themselves.

“Oh, so I’m paying?” Conrad raises his brows, stopping in his tracks with a bag of ice in his hands.

“Your daddy’s credit card will,” You taunt in response, disappearing around the corner of another aisle to leave him to his own devices.

Minutes later, Conrad appears through the sliding doors of the store, the fully loaded cart bumping in the parking lot in front of him. You’re stood by the car, waiting for him, two large drink cups in your hands.

“And what’s this?” He nods his head a little towards the drinks, eyes returning back to yours.

“A peace offering,” You shrug your shoulders, “I’m sorry I got annoyed about you asking about… I just, I was embarrassed and I didn’t want you to think I was some weird stalker that was obsessed with you or something.”

Conrad laughs gently, the kind of laugh that always manages to ease your worry. He steps out from around the cart so that he’s mere inches from you.

“You know,” He lowers his torso down to take a slow sip from the drink, darkened eyes staring up at you as he does, “If you wanted to be screaming my name in the night, you should’ve just asked.”

Your mouth falls agape slightly as all words seem to escape you.

“Come on, I’ll load this up before the ice cream starts melting,” He clears his throat, as if nothing had happened, “Get in the car.”

You oblige and sit in the passenger seat waiting for him as he piles the bags into the trunk, climbing into the driver’s seat shortly after.

He reaches over to take his cup from your hand and his fingers brush yours - still electric as you repeat over the words he’d just said.

“So, home?”

You hum in agreement and keep your eyes focused on the road ahead of you as he reverses out of the spot, unable to hide the smile tearing at your face.

———

“We’re back!” Conrad calls out as the two of you head inside, arms full of brown paper bags.

“Thank god!” Jere exclaims, grabbing a couple of the bags from you to alleviate the weight, “Successful trip?”

You and Conrad exchange a quiet glance before looking back and both saying at the same time, “Yeah.”

Jeremiah frowns at you and his brother, “You two are weird.”

He helps to unpack the shopping before turning back to both of you.

“Hey, Con, did you ask (y/n) about her dre-“

“Grow up Jere,” Conrad snaps quickly, throwing the last bag of ice into the freezer.

You look at him and smile a little to yourself, averting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.

Jeremiah rolls his eyes at his brother and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving just the two of you once more.

“Here, they’ve not melted yet,” Conrad pulls an ice pop from one of the boxes and unwraps it, handing it to you.

You set down your drink and take hold of the wooden stick. Now was your chance to get him back. You make sure you’re stood as close as you can get to him, your eyes gazing upwards to focus on his. And you stick out your tongue, drawing it from the bottom to the top of the cold ice, not once breaking eye contact with Conrad as you pop the top in between your lips and suck gently before pulling away.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, and find yourself hiding back a grin at your obvious effect on him.

“What’s wrong Connie?” You ask him through batted eyelashes, “You look all… flustered.”

It’s almost as if you see the second that the cogs turn in his brain as his hands stretch out to grip your waist, both tightening to lift you up and onto the kitchen counter behind you.

And then, without a second thought, his hand grips your face and he pulls you in to kiss him. It’s rushed at first and overly fueled by passion but you don’t care. He can taste the sweetness on your lips and it only seems to encourage him more, kissing you like he’d been waiting to do so for years. His hand tightens once more on your waist, pulling you into him as closely as he can as your hands grip onto his shoulders.

Conrad pulls away then, only breaking contact at your lips to catch his breath as his forehead rests against yours.

“Don’t tease me,” He grumbles quietly, his lips plump in the absence of you.

You chuckle a little, nudging his head a little more, “From what just happened there, maybe I should be teasing you more often.”

Conrad smirks and pulls away, standing up straight as both of his hands settle on either side of you on the counter. He glances behind you at where the large glass doors lead out to the garden, “You know, nobody’s actually in the house.”

You turn over your shoulder to catch a glimpse, “Yeah, looks like it’s just us.”

He takes the opportunity as you’re turned away to kiss at the exposed skin of your neck, his touch hotter than any weather was capable of.

You let out a quiet moan and grip the back of his head. Damn, he was good at this.

“Connie-“ You hum, pushing into him as closely as you can.

He smirks against you and pulls away, eyes widening slightly at the mark left on your skin from his lips.

“We should probably join the rest,” You comment, dragging your fingers through his hair.

He flutters his eyes closed at the contact and sighs, “Five more minutes.”

Conrad leans in to kiss you again but stops as he hears;

“Conrad! Can you bring the ice pops out?” It’s Stephen yelling to the pair of you.

You look at Conrad and laugh a little, hopping down from the countertop, “Come on, before they suspect anything.”

“I think that mark on your neck will make them suspect enough.”

You bend down to take the ice pop box from the freezer and reach one hand behind your head to untie your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders.

“There we go, it’s like it never happened,” You wiggle your eyebrows and saunter outside towards the garden.

Conrad watches as you go, a smile on his face before his eyes drop to the barely-touched ice pop you’d both discarded onto the counter.

Thank god for hot weather.

[gguk-n]

Mission- Cheer up Logan

I've just had a sad dream with Logan in it and I told him how much I love him and how important he is after watching all the shit Williams and Vowles have been doing. I need this to heal myself. I hope it heals everyone rooting for Logan too

Summary- Literal Logan fluff.

Y/N didn't dislike many people and hate would be a strong word in her dictionary but right now James Vowles and the Williams racing team made her hate them with the tirade they had going against her poor boyfriend which was pissing her off; worst of all, it was affecting Logan. Her happy puppy of a boyfriend was lost. He would either be at work or looking lost and depressed at home. They no longer had witty conversations going on or Y/N teasing Logan any and every chance she got. He would barely smile at her at times. So, Y/N took it upon herself to make her Logan happy.

It was one of those days, the weather was bright and sunny, Logan didn't have to go to work and the previous GP may have been bad but it was slightly better. It was around 9 and they were still in bed. Y/N woke up to Logan 'asleep' at least he pretended to be. She knew him like the back of her hand and every time he acted like he was sleeping his eyes would be shut tight. This habit of his made her smile. She looked up at him while resting her palms against his chest.

Y/N POV

"Good morning, baby boy" I whispered followed by a kiss on the lip which was followed by a grunt and covering his face with the blanket. "Babe, we need to good shopping, we're out of everything." I emphasised. "You can do that alone" he said, still under the duvet. "Yes but you know I hate shopping alone and I wanna show off my super hot racer boyfriend to the world, come on." I said while pulling the covers off. His big blue eyes met mine and I pouted my lips. "I won't take long, I promise. Pinky promise." I exclaimed while holding out my pinky. "You're hurting my ribs, babe." came a strangled cry only to notice my elbow jabbing his ribs. I giggled while apologising and dragging him to the bathroom. We were dressed in 20 minutes and out the door. As Logan started the car, he looked at me and said, "The only reason you're taking me along is so that I can drive you there, right?" I was appalled at the accusation but replied with a smile, "one of the reasons, babe." I said. He laughed asking, "Couldn't you drive there yourself?" "Why would I do something when I have a pro who can do it for me." Logan shook his head. "I have the hottest formula 1 driver at my beck and call so am not even allowed to show him off; is an atrocity I say." dramatically sighing. Logan let out a big laugh, one I hadn't heard pass his lips in ages. It made my heart flutter and tears spring up in my eyes.

The car ride was filled with singing along to songs playing on the radio which we hadn't done in so long. It felt nice to be able to have my Logan back. The trip to the grocery store was uneventful. Once back, I made quick work of putting every thing away. I went back to Logan sat on the couch in the living room and made myself comfortable on his lap, "darling, what would you like for dinner?" He was pulled back from whatever thought he had as I sat on his lap, "Pizza and Pasta" He said. I looked him in the eyes and asked, "What about we go on a date?" Logan looked at me quizzically. "It could be a home date, like the good old days. We could cook together and then dress up to have dinner together. I even bought a few dresses I didn't get to show you." I elaborated.

Logan's POV

In all honesty I couldn't care what we did. I didn't really wanna go out and getting dressed just to eat at home was such a waste of time. But I couldn't say no, when her face was literally hoping for me to say yes. She kept looking at me expectantly and I didn't wanna let another person down, so I agreed. The way her face lit was better than winning any GP. She leaned in and gave me the sloppiest kiss and pulled me to the kitchen to help her cook. I would never say I could cook when Y/N did all the heavy lifting. "Baby boy, you look lost in thought. Is there another woman that is occupying your thoughts?" she said in a southern accent while placing both her arms around my shoulder and wrapping them around my neck. It made my breathe hitch; the effect this woman had on me even after so many years was shocking to say the least. I placed my hands on her waist and replied in an equally fake southern accent, "Darling, there ain't no woman worth my time when you're standing in front of me." "You better." she said while leaving multiple kissed on my face making me laugh. The cooking ended quiet quickly for two people; where one of them couldn't cook and the other kept violating ever health and safety protocol by kissing and touching the person next to them.

Y/N POV

We were almost done with dinner and I asked Logan to go dress up. I would get dressed just before plating the food in the guest room because I didn't want Logan to see the outfit I had planed for him. About 15 minutes later, Logan was back at the table and I left to get dressed. It took me only 20 minutes which was a record. I wore a black lacy mini-dress which barely covered my ass and tits at the same time but it made me look hot and that's all that mattered. I stepped out of the room to an eagerly waiting Logan.

Logan's POV

My mouth was on the floor when I saw what she was wearing. "You don't plan on wearing this out, do you?" I said and then quickly added, "If you did, I don't mind. I can fight but I need this image burnt into my retinas." I ogled. She giggled and walked towards me, "You can take it off, once dinner is over." She whispered in my ear. Dinner was done in record time. We headed to the bedroom so that I could hold her to her words.

While cuddling, Y/N said, "You know, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me." I cut her off because she was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Y/N shushed me, "Right now, I'm talking and you're gonna listen. I love you Logan Sargeant more than there are words that I can use to express myself. I'm so happy every day to wake up next to you and support you in achieving your dreams and aspirations. I hope you remember how good you are and deserve everything you've worked towards. A couple fuck ups don't undermine the talent and hard work that is Logan Sargeant. No matter what anyone says, you are the most handsome and talented driver that deserves to be in F1. Those assholes are blind to not be able to see your pure raw unfiltered talent. I love you baby boy." She finished her speech. There were tears in my eyes that had started flowing which Y/N wiped away with a kiss. I pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so lucky to have you. Thank you for sticking with me. I promise I won't let you down or let anyone make me feel like crap again." She smiled while drawing a heart on my back. We fell asleep wrapped in each others arms.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Devil's Luck - Dr. Fearless/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (with some masc nicknames), nothing but typical Fearless failcringe (we love it).

Wordcount: 6836

Summary: Your luck was so weird, you could end up doing something random like win a contest to an online horror host's livestream thanks to a friend, and somehow manage to meet your soulmate, but that might be pushing it, right?

Notes: My first Fearless >:3 this was part of a trade with the wonderful @lakesofneptune for writing me Matty 💗/)//w//(\💗 it was amazing, so in return I've put on my fangs and written this 🧛 I hope you all enjoy~ 🖤🖤🖤

You didn't know how your luck worked, but boy was it prevalent in the weirdest of ways. Hitting every single detour to the point of being late, and still managing to do it on the one day of the month where it somehow still benefited you. Losing your wallet right before you need to pay for groceries, and having it be returned by the hottest person in the store just in time. Entering a random contest because your best friend only wanted half of the prize, and knowing your track record he’d written down your name on the off chance you won, so naturally you did.

That was how you ended up here on a late Monday night of all nights, the details given to you by your friend just hours before as he excitedly barged into your apartment with the announcement email printed off. You'd just gotten home, and he knew that since you were neighbours, the man waiting for you with bated breath it seemed as you watched him slap the paper down on your counter while you were still in the process of taking off your coat. ‘I just made your whole night,’ he boldly claimed, and you just blinked at him while you remained frozen mid-removal. ‘You just won the privilege to be on TV, courtesy of me! Well, not exactly, but it is being livestreamed, that's where the channel is- nevermind, just get ready, there's a dress code for this so you fit in, I wish they'd sent this earlier, we might've had time to do your hair.’

You blinked again as he spoke, his hands wild and his eyes scanning your closet for something that would fit said dress code, and you finished taking off your coat and set it over the back of your couch. ‘Uh, hello to you too,’ you said as you moved on to your shoes, not bothered at all as he started motioning for you to move a little faster. 

‘Okay, I know this doesn't happen for a few hours, but you really do need to get ready,’ he insisted as he headed for your closet and inspected it more closely, your pair of black boots you saved for winter coming out along with the trenchcoat you bought as part of a Halloween costume years ago and just never donated when you were done with it.

‘What the hell are you dressing me as?’ you asked with a curious raise of your eyebrows at the startings of the ensemble, and he seemed unsure about the coat but ultimately set it aside with the boots. He didn't answer you, just rushed to your bedroom to raid your other closet presumably, and you sighed and followed him before he made a mess. 

‘Need dark clothes, spikes, leather, uh… you still have the rest of that costume? I can lend you some of my stuff if you don’t,’ he wondered without even looking at you, and you resigned yourself to your fate and started to dig through the boxes buried behind all the stuff you actually wore.

‘If this is for some kinda sex thing-’

‘It’s not! It's classy, just gothic, I swear,’ he insisted when your outfit was chosen, and as you stared down at it you had to trust your weird luck and that your friend wouldn't lead you astray.

‘Fine, so what is this? Something livestreamed, am I like, putting on a presentation? Do I need to memorize anything?’ There was no fighting this, might as well go with the flow, it would be less painful this way when he brought you to this mysterious location.

‘Well, there's this channel I watch, and they're all about horror, you know how much I love horror; anyway, they got two tickets to that new vampire movie that's coming out, we're talking premium seats, free popcorn, opening night, it's sick as hell. So they started a contest, write them an email about how much you love horror and the first place winner gets the tickets as well as a spot on the show when they go to collect them, and that's gunna be you!’ It was then you noticed that he was dressed a little fancier than usual, his hair was slicked back and he was wearing eyeliner, his own gothness upped a few levels for the occasion.

‘Lemme guess, the winner gets to bring a friend,’ you figured, your reflection showing you a pair of vampires by the time you were done, it was almost kind of funny. 

‘Of course, it's first prize, plus I'm not leaving without those tickets,’ he told you matter of factly, and he looked you over before humming to himself and snapping his fingers. He pulled out an eyeliner pen from his pocket and quickly applied it to you, he was very prepared for this, and you had to admit it did look like you were about to hit the local goth club or something like this. ‘That'll have to do, time to head out, thank you so much for doing this for me, you know how much I hate being on camera.’

‘Oh, so that's why I'm the scapegoat here,’ you realized flatly while you did up your shoes, but he completely missed or ignored your sarcastic tone. 

‘It's just for a half hour, the host is pretty eccentric and he does bits between the movies, so most of your appearance will be banter, and you know how bad I am with that,’ he reminded you like you weren't already well aware of how he clammed up the moment someone shot a quip back at him. ‘So based on the other guests I've seen, you'll just go on, do some talking about horror stuff - which you can bullshit your way through, you've known me long enough - announce a short film submitted to or found by the producers, and then whatever movie is playing next. After that you'll probably get my tickets, we can get outta there, and I’ll tell you if the movie is any good.’

‘Wha- I don't even get to go after all this?’

‘Hell no, you know I’ve been trying to ask that girl down at the 2nd floor out, this is the perfect date, actually perfect, I can’t- I cannot waste this on just us hanging out, can’t do it man, I’m sorry,’ he apologized profusely while also managing to sound not sorry at all, something he was incredibly good at.

‘Alright, but if she doesn’t go for it, I want that second seat,’ you bargained, to which he gladly agreed as thanks for you doing this. That settled, he picked the paper back up off the counter and led the way to his car; the place was some rented building in what used to be a stripmall, all the shops around it closed and rented out for various reasons like this, between self storage, an apartment you were pretty sure, and a small-time but very heavily guarded liquor store. It wasn't impressive, but it brought life to the place you could see as people filled the normally empty parking lot now that the sun had set and the show was about to be in progress.

You’d learned that while it was livestreamed for its channel, they also opened their doors to the locals as well to stop in, catch a movie, and donate if they liked what was going on. You could see that the small crowd they drew were very much into it, no one there ironically to your surprise, and you started to worry that maybe bullshitting your way through your half hour wouldn’t be as easy as your friend thought; you were a casual enjoyer of horror compared to him, and these other people. You liked to see the latest stuff with your favourite B-Tier actor in it when he reappeared for roles, and you enjoyed the popular classics and the odd camp as much as the next guy, but could you get away with that when the person walking in front of you had the bride of Dracula shaved into his hair?

‘I don’t think I can do this, they’ll know I didn’t write the letter,’ you gulped when you transitioned from stripmall to eerily decorated rooms, the whole place looking more like you were about to enter a haunted house than a set. 

‘Shit, I knew I forgot something, I printed it off so you could read it, maybe drop a line or two,’ he hissed before he was forcing a huge smile and presenting his winning ticket even though it should’ve been you. The ticket taker, a tall woman with bright red hair and too many piercings to count, looked you both over before motioning for a shorter woman with white hair done up in high twintails with fake devil horns on her headband to lead your way, and you followed her nervously until you reached the set. It was done up even more than the foyer, two plush chairs with an old box tv between them as the main attraction while the rest was decorated to look like a castle library you presumed.

There was a coffin in the left corner right before the backdrop ended, candles galore - although you were sure they were mostly for show, burnt down until the wax got everywhere while fake ones were hidden between - as well as jars filled with various things. There were so many fake cobwebs you were sure some real ones were bound to be mixed in by now, and even a fake fireplace and chandelier hung from the ceiling next to the boom mic. It was a pretty well-loved set, every nook and cranny you could see positively filled with Halloween and horror themed things; while it looked cheap to buy, everything was touched up and placed with great care, and even now people were leaving tips and browsing the small corner of the room dedicated to themed treats as well as the graciously flowing popcorn maker.

‘Wow, this is the real deal,’ you said aloud before you could help yourself, and instantly you felt a presence behind you that wasn't your friend or the woman who’d brought you over.

‘Indeed, welcome to my humble abode, I trust you’re the lucky vic- I mean, guest I’ll have the honour of sitting with tonight?’ It was a man’s voice, heavy with an over the top Transylvanian accent, and when you turned you were very much not ready to see who it belonged to; out of everyone there, it was clear even from a distance that this was your host, your eyes looking up and up until you met his own. He was pale, caked in makeup to make him appear almost dead, his eyes surrounded by more black than you’d ever seen on anyone outside of Halloween, with a thin, red scar trailing from his forehead to his cheek and a pair of long Nosferatu-style fangs resting over his bottom lip. 

He was all dressed up in his vampiric best, from the black suit overtop his silky, purple shirt, to the red jeweled medallion hanging between the clasps of his impressively expensive-looking cape, but none of that was what really caught your eye. No, it was the haircut, a bob with triangle bangs that were cut way too high, and you couldn’t stop the small and short laugh as it escaped your throat when you saw it. Instantly your friend was there to stop you from letting out more and to introduce himself, your host’s eyes only on you despite the rudeness even as his hand was taken in an eager handshake.

‘Hey! Sorry about that, my name is-’

‘Please, with all due respect, it is your captivating friend here which I am interested in,’ he interrupted as he stole his hand back and presented it to you instead, and you noticed the black nail polish to top it all off when you looked down. ‘You’re the winner of my little search for a lover of all things macabre and fiendish, are you not?’

‘Uh, yeah, that’s me,’ you lied, your friend frozen in shock at getting to shake his hand even for that brief moment.

‘Wonderful, I could sense it when I looked at you, your blood smelled positively rich with fright even from across my theater, a creature after my own heart,’ he swooned like he was in love, and one quick glance to your friend told you it was all part of the bit, he thought himself a Romeo of monsters.

‘Oh, I don’t know if it’s fright, but-’ You cut yourself off when he then took your hand, tired of waiting for you to shake it, but instead of the greeting your friend had gotten, he simply lifted your hand up while he leaned over, and you felt his fake teeth press into your skin as he kissed you hello. 

‘Divine, your pulse under my lips makes my heart soar, perhaps I may get more acquainted with it during the show, turn you into one of my own,’ he thought aloud as he stared at you through dark makeup and long lashes, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or blush at how hard he was hamming it on before the cameras even started rolling.

‘Yeah, sure, I’m the winner, aren’t I? Pretty good prize to become a vampire at the end,’ you joked, but he seemed to take it seriously as his eyes widened briefly in excitement.

‘What a handsome addition to my clan,’ he whispered before kissing you again, and this time you felt less sure about how much he was actually hamming it or if he was a better actor than you originally thought. Your moment was quickly interrupted when a new person arrived to hand him his script for the night, the two talking quietly to themselves as you were guided presumably just out of sight by the shorter woman again. She gave you the quick rundown while you were gently touched up for the cameras, how you were indeed going to be called on, do some banter, introduce some things, and then you were free to go claim your tickets. 

Seemed easy enough, and his eccentricness seemed just as easy to match as long as you forgot the fact that 20+ people were watching you in this room alone, so you practiced your breathing and waited as the lights dimmed and a spotlight fell over the coffin in the corner. You hadn’t watched him enter it but apparently he had, the fireplace now roaring to life behind the chairs and TV, each of the fake candles now creating shadows on everything. The chatter started to quiet until the whole room was silent, everyone gathered into the mismatch of thrifted couches and chairs so it really felt like a theater or even a living room, the only sounds that of the snacks currently being chewed and the fog machine whirring to life.

‘Good evening, Boils and Ghouls, my Fiendish Freaks who dare dredge these long, cold nights with the Creatures of the Dark for any glimmer of light,’ his voice came from the speakers placed around the room, but there was no applause, that wasn't the atmosphere of this place. The coffin creaked open with a perfectly timed soundboard hit, the creak overly loud as he reached out delicately and pushed the lid until he was revealed, and the spotlight landed perfectly on him as he looked out onto the crowd before focusing on the camera. ‘Once again, it is I, your horrid host of the evening, Dr. Fearless, and I thank you all for joining me. Tonight, we have a horrible lineup of classic horror monsters to terrify you with, to finish off our Marathon of Madness leading into the most wonderful month of the year, October.

‘We also have not one, but two short films made by aspiring fearmakers, full of monsters the likes of which this castle has yet to house, let us hope none of them decide to crawl through your screen and find a home there.’ He left the coffin completely as he spoke, taking careful steps towards the leftmost chair, and as soon as he sat down the TV blinked to life, static filling the room as the spotlight faded into something gloomier so the room wasn't in complete darkness apart from the candles. ‘But first, let us welcome our Ghoulish Guest for tonight, the answer to my howls in the dark, the Passenger of the Demeter!’

That was your cue, and the soundboard lit up again with a very classic organ tune as bats chirped in the background, a roar of thunder sounding as you sat across from him. You went to shake his hand properly this time, but again he refused, another kiss warming your hand before he quickly turned your arm to expose your wrist; your eyes widened as he leaned in for a bite, and you almost let him surprisingly enough before you felt the tips of his fangs press into your skin. You jerked away, and he feigned offense before catching himself, an apology tossed your way with a great flourish.

‘Forgive me, I thought you might be offering me a drink to start off the evening, these films often leave me quite parched,’ he projected, and when you opened your mouth to say it was okay you found a zombie standing beside you dressed as a butler; he held out a golden tray, of course silver would be off the menu, and on it was what could only be described as a grand - at least from afar - goblet next to a large wine glass. ‘Thank you, my humble helper, this will greatly help until I may have a taste- er, a toast, with our guest,’ he told the man, who loudly groaned and walked off as soon as the drinks were taken.

You could smell that it was simply fruit punch, but the colour was darker, probably deepend with food colouring, they really were the real deal. He held up his goblet while everyone stared, and you ignored them all as you tapped the rim of your glass against his own before taking a small sip. He seemed pleased, and in one swift movement he set down his goblet, crossed his legs, and adjusted his cape with another grand flourish.

‘Now that our thirsts have been quenched, let us partake in this delectable first short film to start off the night, a fearful story about what happens when love takes a desperate turn,’ he told the cameras dramatically, and the TV flickered to life to show everyone the short in question. ‘You're doing wonderful, my Myotis,’ he whispered to you as the short’s audio was blasted through the room, a secondary screen dropping down to reveal a projector hiding above the chandelier so everyone else could watch.

‘Your what?’ you whispered back in confusion, but he either didn't hear you or ignored the question.

‘By the way, since I was so very entranced by your eyes when we met, I forgot to ask what you would like to be called during our gathering, do you have any special name prepared?’

‘Uh, no, not really,’ you chuckled awkwardly, something like that hadn't even been close to being on your mind.

‘I shall name you like the day you were born, then, something chilling but also fitting of your beauty, your charm,’ he offered, still hamming it up even though only you could hear, and you wondered for a moment if maybe this was just… how he always was, this wasn't an act for the cameras.

‘Okay, shock and awe me,’ you agreed as you took another sip of ‘blood’, and his eyes shone in the firelight as he quickly started to think up something befitting of you; he was silly, and so over the top you knew you could never match this energy, but he was also strangely endearing in a way, a childlike wonder and love for all of this setting him apart from everyone else watching so intently before you, and you could see why people came to the streams, not just watched them at home.

The short ended and you actually didn't notice at first until the credits were over and the screen rose again, the film ended on the TV as well as it switched back to the atmospheric static. ‘Wasn't that frightening, my Fiends? Trading the senses just to keep love, choosing the heart of another over being able to ever see them again, have you ever seen anything more romantic?’ Of course no one answered, and in the audience you saw your friend eating all of this up along with the complimentary snacks that came with being the ‘winner's guest’. ‘Ah, but we are not here for romance, we're here for the darkness within us all to be shared, exposed, torn open and put on display like an embalmed, still-beating heart,’ he continued as he covered the lower half of his face with his cape dramatically. ‘Of course, having met our guest tonight, I might finally understand what that kind of devotion might drive someone to, wouldn't you agree?’

The sound of a beating heart pulsed through the speakers, and he stared at you until you met his eye and he raised his eyebrows suggestively, his mouth still hidden. You tried not to laugh, a bit of a chuckle still escaping, and he still took it and held his hands over his heart as he leaned back in his chair.

‘Like music to my ears, but again, we are not here for love, we are here for fear, terror, maybe even a bit of pain for those so inclined-’ Another eyebrow raise, apparently he was the one inclined. ‘-so allow my devilish date to introduce our next short after a quick message from our benefactors.’ You assumed that was his term for the channel's sponsors, and sure enough someone else came back out to talk about some product they were being pushed to promote off to your right, the camera turning to their section of stage while they talked. This allowed you both another moment to talk, and he handed you a card with the next short’s title as well as some information about it as soon as you were out of sight. ‘Memorize this, the way you've already memorized my very soul, my enticing incubus,’ he told you, and this time you couldn't hide your laugh.

‘Okay,’ was all you had to say to that one as you stifled your surprised snickers, the card small and to the point with its words as such.

‘I must say, with the way you wrote that letter to me, I expected more conversation with you, perhaps you are too overwhelmed by my presence to speak? I apologize if so, I never intended to strike you speechless when it is you who steals the words from my very throat until I cannot breathe,’ he continued as he leaned in, his goblet in hand and faintly staining his pale lips a little more red as he sipped again. You shot your friend a glance, of course your personalities would come off as so different, and you didn't want to get him disqualified at the last second when he was so looking forward to his upcoming date.

‘Guess I'm a bit camera shy,’ you didn't exactly lie, and he let out a long, ‘Ahhhhh~’ in understanding as he turned to watch the device film his co-worker.

‘I, too, used to fear the camera, I worried that it wouldn't be able to record me so my dreams of being a horror host would be dashed, but do not fret, my charming cadaver, I can attest that it is more afraid of you than you are of it, you are doing just fine.’ Despite the flowery - weedy? - language you had to admit that he sounded genuine in his advice, and you nodded to yourself as the sponsor finished up and the two of you prepared to be focused on again.

‘Thanks, I think I'm ready now,’ you whispered to him just before the audience was staring at you again, and you took a bigger sip to steel your nerves and held the card in your hand just out of view. 

‘Wasn't that hypnotizing, I feel the need to go to their digital address and present them with the phrase my associate has just shared so generously with you all.’ He wasted no time in getting back to it, he couldn’t afford to when they still needed to get to the movie before it got too late. ‘Now, it is time for our surprise second tale of sorrow, if you'll allow my guest to tell you all about it, the horrifying, the enchanting, the anticipated… Lord Dullahan~’ 

Your eyebrows raised, naming you after the Headless Horseman despite having a head was a bold move, and you stole a glance at your friend and channeled all of his energy as you sucked in a deep breath and felt the atmosphere settle into your bones. ‘Good evening, as a great enjoyer of the strange and unusual, I find myself quite at home here, my dear Fearless,’ you said as grandly as you could, making sure to project your voice loud so it could be picked up by not only the boom mic high above but also the audience, and your friend gave you two thumbs up before delving back into his popcorn with a big smile. 

Fearless, on the other hand, looked positively surprised by you, and you swore you might've seen actual hearts - medically accurate ones at that - in his eyes as he stood up and fell to one knee in front of the TV with a large swish of his cape behind him, his hand finding yours before you could blink.

‘The pleasure is all mine to host you, my dear Dullahan,’ he said like you were the only two in the room, briefly losing himself in the bit it seemed, and the person manning the soundboard thought now would be a perfect time to make use of that beating heart cue again. You heard your friend snicker so you doubled down and kissed his hand before pulling yours away to take another sip, going for a more mysterious air after your long silence in front of everyone else. You couldn't be sure under the lights and his makeup but it almost looked like his cheeks flushed a bit at the gesture, and you grinned at the taste of his own medicine before going back to your little ‘script’.

‘While the storm rages outside, why don't you join us by this warm fire while we watch a tale about what happens when you try to cheat death, and how you might just get exactly the answers you've been looking for along the way.’ You had no cape, but you still hid your face the same way he had, and when you glanced down and saw him still kneeling there you swore that he might actually think you were his soulmate with how genuinely in love he looked, he was a damn good actor under all the camp. ‘Doctor, I believe our guests might not be able to partake along with us as long as you’re down there, would you prefer to watch from your seat, or mine?’

This one threw him through a loop greater than he’d done to you, and when he looked unable to answer, his hands hovering over your own, your knee, his eyes never leaving your own, you then channeled every vampire movie you’d ever seen; you pet him under the chin, dragging your finger across his jaw to his chin in order to make him stand, and he did so easily he might actually be hypnotized, you had to give it to him for selling all this so seamlessly. Just when he looked ready to sit, you stood as well and took his seat, giving him yours to finish the bit, and the TV sparked back to life as he sat down and watched you instead of the screen. Behind you, the short played again just over your heads, and you nearly drank from his goblet before realizing that yours was still on the opposite table.

‘An indirect kiss from you would be like a dream, a nightmare on a stormy night, such bliss you could give me,’ he whispered as he went to drink from your own, and you shook your head and exchanged it back without distracting the audience too much from the film.

‘Sorry, maybe next time,’ you joked, your throat surprisingly dry even after such little speaking. ‘You’re good at improv, sorry for nearly derailing things, by the way.’

He shook his head, his disappointment over the kiss looking a little too real as he set his goblet back down on the other table. ‘Do not trouble yourself over such a trivial thing, none have ever rendered me as silent as the grave as you have, I fear it is my head that may roll by the end of the night,’ he waxed poetically at you, still hamming it up before a new disappointment showed on his face. ‘Ah, but alas, I may never get that privilege, you’re to leave me once the film begins, are you not?’

You paused, you’d almost forgotten about that part, in fact your friend was already starting to gather up his many wrappers and stuff them into the now empty popcorn bag, the flashing lights shining on him in his seat. You frowned, this was too much fun, more than you expected it to be, and you motioned for him to lean in; he eagerly did, his eyes wide and looking pitch black instead of brown in the darkness no matter how close he came to you. ‘Would I be able to stay for the film? I mean, I can move to the audience somewhere, or to the floor if there’s no room, I’ve just… never done anything like this before, I don’t want to leave, not right away, at least?’

He almost broke character as he actually looked away from you and to the people in the glass-partitioned studio where his live editor and director sat, and he had a wordless conversation with them in front of you while the audience focused on the scifi hell going on behind you. When he looked back he was himself again, or Fearless, more rather, and he reached across the TV’s expanse in search of your hand. You humoured him as thanks, and he nodded his head, already coming up with his next lines no doubt as the film above finished up.

‘How terrifying, again we’ve seen what lengths we will go to for love, and what harm we will bring to those in the way of those lengths,’ he said as soon as the screen was raised again, and you nodded at the camera and crossed your legs, his chair definitely more comfy than your own had been despite being the same.

‘Would you ever go to such lengths for love, Doctor?’ you asked in order to keep your presence worth it, and again he tripped over his own tongue as he gazed over to you.

‘I shall tonight, if anyone dares separate us before midnight,’ he threatened playfully with a theatrical wave of his hands, a subtle warning to those behind the glass after his conversation with them. ‘Speaking of, the clock is about to strike, soon it will be October, and I cannot think of better company to start off the season of witches and werewolves and welcome my fellow vampires back into the harvest moonlight.’ He stood and gave his audience a bow, a chorus of bats nearly making you jump as he dipped down low. ‘The time is upon us now, the countdown begins, and so I shall have to bid my guest adieu so we may partake in our grand finale of the evening; Lord Dullahan, if you’d please?’

He extended his hand back to you, and you tried to hide your disappointment as you took it, only for him to get you one last time; he drew you close and lowered his face into your neck, not actually biting you but still startling you enough to make you cling to him in a not so unpleasant fear. Your eyes widened as you sucked in a shaky breath, your fingers digging in what had to be uncomfortably into his bicep and shoulder, and you heard him chuckle before you realized what was going on and you fell limp in his arms.

‘A creature so lovely cannot be permitted to leave this castle alive! Forgive me, my innocent Dullahan, I could not resist the sweet call of your blood, your heartbeat, the way I had to feel it pulse under my piercing fangs… I swear I shall care for you here, this castle will forever be your home, and you will forever be mine!’ You pretended to look drowsily up at him, your grip returning to his arms since you’d gone a bit too limp and there was now a very real chance of him dropping you on the floor in front of everyone. You rubbed at your neck and winced, and when you brought your hand up you showed the red from your obscured glass now staining your fingers to finish selling it.

‘Whatever you desire, Master,’ you slurred, knowing that that kind of title usually went along with these kinds of situations, and you watched in stunned silence as the soundboard accidentally sent out what could only be described as a cartoonish boing sound before the correct sound of thunder crashed instead. Fearless hid his face as he bit his lip, his shoulders tensing as the soundboard operator was wildly chastised behind the glass, and you hid your face in his shoulder until your own laughing stopped. 

‘Very good, I knew I chose well,’ he continued after a brief moment of almost losing it, and you blew out a quick breath and let him help you stand, the loud song of a clock chiming letting you know that it was now midnight. ‘The clock tower! Hear its chimes, and know that midnight is upon us!’ he called out to everyone, and you weren’t surprised as everyone actually joined in on the countdown. As they slowly called out the numbers, Fearless grabbed your drink and handed it back to you, your arms hooked now that you guessed you were his, and when it struck midnight you both drank until your glasses were empty.

You frowned at the taste, that wasn't your fruit punch, and you noticed in the confusion that he’d actually handed you his own, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as you tasted actual wine, guess the colour wasn't just for show in his case.

‘An indirect kiss was indeed such a dream, what bliss,’ he repeated, and you felt your face grow just as red as the liquid in his goblet at how low his voice had become. ‘And now, our grand finale of the evening to start off our marathon to Halloween starting tomorrow night, featuring a marathon of horror as voted by you all out there. So, grab some wine, or blood, of your own, maybe find something tasty to bite into while you watch, as I present to you: The Creature Walks Among Us~’

The screen lowered for the final time, the audience getting up to replenish their snacks for the movie as the opening credits rolled, and your friend quickly threw out his trash and jogged over to you. ‘Great work, I knew you’d be a natural up there, let’s grab those tickets and head out, I’ve already seen this one a million times,’ he said excitedly as the producer came out with an envelope, Fearless finally leaving your side to go get it to present to you.

‘Yeah, actually I think I’m gunna stay,’ you confessed, and he looked between you and your host before something sly showed on his face.

‘For you, my dear Du- forgive me, I suppose you don’t need that title away from our other guests,’ Fearless said almost nervously as he approached with ‘your’ gift, and your friend snatched it from you the second it was placed into your hands.

‘Thanks so much, this was fantastic, I had a real blast tonight, I hope you two enjoy the movie, I know I sure will,’ he told you cheekily before rushing out, probably in the worry that someone might take them back from him, and you waved at his back a moment before turning back to Fearless.

‘Shall I grab a seat now that his is free? I’ve never seen this one before,’ you asked, and he glanced over to it before wrapping his arm - and cape - around your shoulders; he waved aside the solo guy taking up the couch and had him move to your friend’s vacant chair, and the short woman from before brought you a tray filled with complimentary snacks as you both sat down next to each other. She asked for your favourite drink, his already poured into a decorative glass shaped like a skeleton, clearly he also preferred to watch the movie from over here, and he let you sit against him as your own drink was brought over in a glass shaped like a bat curled around a branch. ‘Fancy, you do this with all your prize winners?’

‘No, just you,’ he whispered, and for a moment you actually looked around to see who’d spoken until it hit you that it was him, without the heavy accent. ‘Our mics are off, we can talk a little more normally while this is playing, unless you prefer Fearless?’ he asked, his voice changing back at the end, and you just blinked at him before grabbing some popcorn.

‘And who might you be, if not my dear Dr. Fearless?’ you teased, and this time you were sure he blushed as he let out a small yet nervous laugh.

‘Dwight, actually, and you are?’ You went to say your own name before you stopped, tried to say your friend’s instead, and he shook his head and held up a hand to get you to stop. ‘I figured it out a while ago, but I knew for sure when you said you’d never seen it after singing its praises in the letter,’ he chuckled, and you cringed and sat up a little straighter.

‘I’m sorry, he was really excited for the tickets he’s just- terrible with being put on the spot, I swear he actually is a fan,’ you explained quickly, Dwight looking you over as his face almost changed into someone different; it was then you noticed he’d taken out his fangs so he could enjoy the snacks, and the cute goofiness suddenly transformed into rather handsomeness even with the wig.

‘And you’re not, judging on how you acted with me tonight,’ he confirmed, and you could only nod. ‘But you are now, I take it, after the show you gave everyone?’

‘I might be swayed, you did turn me, after all,’ you joked, Dwight’s eyes drifting to your neck like he might actually try again. ‘The constant love confessions were a surprise though, he didn’t warn me about those when he got me to come on here.’

‘Not a surprise to me, seeing as they were all genuine,’ he said simply before taking a drink, the opening credits finally over as everyone sat back down again to enjoy the film.

‘They were-?’

‘Even if I could tell you weren’t the soulmate I thought you might be in his letter, I must say that I did wanna get to know you, all the same,’ he admitted before hiding himself in a big bite of chocolate, and you thought over everything he’d said the past almost hour as your heart raced a little faster. It was silly, and over the top, and you still had no idea what a Myotis was, but you couldn’t deny that this creature beside you was not only silly but also fascinating, and you sat a little closer to him as you reached across his lap to grab his drink.

‘What was it you said? “An indirect kiss would be bliss”?’ you wondered before taking a sip, his real front teeth biting into his bottom lip as he watched. You gave him your name along with his drink, and you finally saw how your strange luck had struck once again as he offered you a bite of chocolate to go along with your handful of popcorn, the movie barely holding your attention as the two of you whispered to each other all throughout it.

[fictionkinfessions]

open question, what do people think about kins using the word "source" to refer to the media they kin from?

ive seen a lot of people use source vs media to distinguish kins from fictives, and some even get mad at kins for using the word source

was just curious other peoples thoughts on this!!

my thoughts is that it's ridiculous cop brained hair splitting. please pick up a hobby, there are more fun things to do with your time than police yourself and others. There's way to do kinning wrong but that ain't it.

The words are synonyms. If someone is confused if a stranger is a singlet or system member they can ask. Whether they get an answer is up to the stranger, because they don't owe you personal info like if they're traumagenic or got some self conscious fictotypes. For examples. Just use whatever you vibe with, regardless of who you are.

Listen, knitting needles is like 5 bucks lifetime investment, a hank of yarn maybe 4-7 dollars if you got coupons or what store it is. Knit a BIG rectangle, sew up the sides, knit a long skinny 'scarf' for a handle and with a tapestry needle [2-4 dollars] sew it on. BAM. You got yourself a cute bag.

You can experiment with different knitting stitches, colors, knitting patterns, etc, to get yourself some cute bags and backpacks. Hell, I knit a bag with some duckies on it. QUACK QUACK! If you get acrylic or cotton yarn, that bag will last a damn long time. Hop on Ravelry.com for millions of free patterns and a big forum of of knitters and crocheters who'll gladly help a newbie into their hobby.

BONUS you'll be the hottest person at the gocey [grocery] store.

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

any dilf Jungkook fic recommendations??😭

Hi ya, it's not a genre I typically read, but I did enjoy these three... (If I come across more, I'll post them here)

Blue Spring: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there…Well…besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter…if not maybe a little too much. https://adonis-koo.tumblr.com/post/619058074812088320/blue-spring

Gingerbread Man: Baker, widower, and single father Jungkook's life is changed forever by an unexpected large order. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21696316/chapters/51747916

The Art Of Wanting: You find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you. https://www.tumblr.com/venusiangguk/643372881526554624/pairing-jungkook-x-reader-dilfjk-x-grocery?source=embed

[mistvy]

Of course, I was thinking of Slade, seeing him in my mind’s eye. One day, about three weeks after our one-night-stand, I’d gone to the local grocery store and been happily perusing, eyeing the chocolate that was begging me, "buy me, buy me, you love me…" and I had muttered back,

and—ran right into Slade. Yes, handsome, bronze, green-eyed, cowboy, rancher—Slade. He stood there, one hand holding a pack of chocolate covered pretzels and the other on the buggy handle, with a smile in his eyes that told me he had heard every word I’d said. All he had done was reach out the pretzels and say,

Then drop them into my basket and move on. After standing there, swallowing a few times and closing my eyes, I’d rushed to get out of the store. I had bought the damn pretzels too.

Another time, I’d spent the day getting my hair trimmed and my waxing done and had gone to the drugstore for tampons and other personals. As always my basket overflowed with every bath oil and newfangled as seen on TV thing and of course, three of the hottest romance novels with the sexiest covers I could find—all the men who looked as close to Slade as possible. He appeared in line behind me. A long line—and, could see over my shoulder apparently, because that smooth and deep voice was near my ear as he offered,

Mortified had reached new levels in my body. My gaze was locked with the eighteen year old cashier—whom I was already dreading handing tampons to—now having heard every word Slade Debolt said to me. The guy was trying to keep from laughing or coughing and I’d bet on laughing, since he was in a grotesque smile stage when my tampons were slapped on the counter. The painful process was not over. I gathered my things and didn’t look back, but hardly got off the sidewalk before Slade was there. He said to my shoulder as I switched directions, pretending to need something up the street,

I was not shy. I wasn’t. Around other people, I was fine. Normal. Nevertheless, that one night with him replayed over in my head and in my body a thousand times. I was tempted to drive out there. I got tempted all the time.

[oceansatedogs]

asa praise kink 🎤

i feel like Asa has a weird relationship with praise; like, on one hand, she is probably not used to someone saying something nice to her in earnest. but on the other hand? she also is self-absorbed as fuck, and expects praise because after all she is the hottest girl in this grocery store.

and listen, i don't think it's necessarily bad she makes herself out to be the center of the universe, that she's just thinking about me-me-me. or that she has this idea people should just fall in love with her after talking to her for 5 minutes.

because everyone feels this way, especially traumatized, insecure people like her.

before i get into the praise kink thing i just think it's kinda important to remember that this girl is the epitome of a 2014 era tumblr user. she makes everything about herself, be it in a negative or positive light (as shown in how she feels entitled to Denji's affection, was convinced Yoshida was going to confess his undying love to her? lol?, makes herself out to be the worst person alive, etc etc).

i think her conceitedness comes from a place of trying to cope with these feelings of insecurity, which is a very common response to not feeling good enough. and i mean it's not like she really has people in her corner of the world (besides Yoru) who can give her the unconditional & always-present love she's so desperate to have. she's got no mother to hug her and cook her a warm meal after a hard day at school. no friends to back her up when she's getting shoved and called mean shit at school. and nobody who's ever told her, not even once, that she's cute or funny or smart or worth a damn.

besides Yoru - who's basically just Fujimoto's anime girl version of "Tyler Durden" to Asa's "Jack Moore/Narrator" - Asa is all alone.

and she's so alone, she fears being around others just as much. because they'll hate her all the same. because she'll fuck it all up somehow. because she projects herself onto everything and everyone, everywhere. it starts and it ends with Asa Mitaka.

there is no other version of this narrative.

ok! that being said, i feel like in a kink context, this is a chance for Asa to allow herself a moment of vulnerability when she hears sweet words of affection come out of someone's mouth in whispers. i think she'd melt at the touch of fingers running through her hair and see stars just from the feeling of a pair of lips on her skin—anywhere, really. even just from the shoulders-up. she has to be reassured a lot and is slow to allow anyone to see even an inch of her when she (hesitantly) peels back the thin veil of I Don't Care, and all of her insecurities lay undressed.

but she also feels entitled to love all the while. she loves this so much and she does not want the compliments to stop. tell her she's "good" and that she's "the best thing that's ever going to happen to you" and that "you'll never leave her".

Asa's desperate to hear it spoken aloud because those feelings only exist in perception. you must convince her. please tell her you think she's beautiful.

[maefuzzy]

Was doing some grocery shopping in a hot outfit cause obviously, and I got TWO separate compliments from 2 women about how I was so tall and pretty like… .. . !

One was like “oh you can’t squeeze by with those legs! I wish I had your height girl!” And an older lady said “waaow, a beautiful tall woman!” As I walked by

ITS OVERPOWERED. ITS AWESOME.

I AM THE HOTTEST PERSON AT THE GROCERY STORE

[pinkkittysaw]

i’ve got to be the hottest person at the grocery store picking up eggs in the morning

[oyetakin7919]

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[starwarspissorgy]

"No wonder it's so common for bisexuals to talk about loving women, men are hairy and smelly."

You know nothing. Your mind is the size of a corn chip to me.

Not only are these the two hottest, most frenzy inducing things a person can be, how dare you discount the ability for women to be as smelly and hairy as they want to be? I once smelled an egirl who was leaving the house for the first time in a month from across a grocery store and got so hard I passed out and made a cylindrical hole where I fell. If men are being hairy and smelly all the time, THANK FUCKING GOD.

[rhetoricalrogue]

Whelp, guess it’s time to replay Book 1. Things I want to change this go-around:

Rowena is more scientific and ruled by logic instead of her emotions, which puts her completely out of sorts when this tall drink of water promptly sweeps her off her feet. Cue lots of “you’re having all these feelings because your life has taken a turn, if you were to meet Nate in a normal everyday type situation, you wouldn’t feel this way” attempts at talking herself out of starting a relationship.

Less plain barebones apartment decor, more antique store and estate sale hunting to create a cozy yet classic space. There’s a communal maker’s studio somewhere in Wayhaven that has tools people can borrow and space to do projects that Rowena takes advantage of to refinish furniture. One of the regular older carpenters took her under his wing and taught her everything he knows.

Absolutely nothing about Zoe. I adore my prickly daughter. Her best friend/ex-husband remarried, had a son who is currently 7 years old, and got (amicably) divorced (again.) His son visits on the weekends and summers and Zoe has a good relationship with her ex’s ex-wife to the point where she’s basically a third parent.

I’m telling myself that the reason I’m not seeing any mention of supporting characters I made up for Astrid’s run is because Sir Cashew von Noodlesworth III got sent to Germany to act as a therapy bicycle horn cat to Astrid’s best friend Markus, who is dealing with some Werewolf Issues back home and needs the emotional support. Her other best friend Tony isn’t in the picture due to some sort of fey situation, Marle and Bjorn and BB temporarily closed the tea shop to go on a long family vacation/shop restock of teas from sustainable sources, and Fiona got caught up in some Agency mission with her pack of pixies.

Astrid doesn’t believe any of it, she thinks that the people in her life saw the UST brewing between her and Adam and went

Also less empty and plain apartment decor. More color, more art on the walls, more pictures of the Trio on the walls, more well-worn and much loved books in Italian and German, more of her hobbies on display, and way more plants. So many plants. All the plants.

More of Lucas needing to be the hottest person in the grocery store at 6 am. Also more of seeing a little of himself in Douglas and attempting to be the person that he needed to have around when he was his age. He still doesn’t get enough sleep and the Local Retiree Gossip Squad have pretty much adopted him as their honorary grandson. Delores 10/10 approves of whatever he has going on with Morgan. She says Morgan “reminds me of myself when I was her age” and Gladys almost always counters with “but you were a hussy when you were her age.” Billie, the peacekeeper in the group, usually argues that Delores’ so called hussy ways is how Delores snagged Dear Husband Number Four, to which all of the gossip squad sighs dreamily and as one go “bless his soul.”

[sol-flo]

goth jewelry saved my life (and also my pride bc i was considering getting an e-person o-ring choker)